


Origins

by peppermintquartz



Series: Bleachverse AU [2]
Category: Bleach, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Alternate Universe, Ancient Japan, M/M, Slash, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-17
Updated: 2012-06-17
Packaged: 2017-11-07 22:58:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/436377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peppermintquartz/pseuds/peppermintquartz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The origins of vampire Aizen and Ichimaru Gin from Dark Sun Rising.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Fox in the Snow

"Welcome, Aizen-sama," said the tea merchant Matsumoto, kneeling at the door of his shop. "This is indeed a great honor for me and my kin."

"Please, don't stand on ceremony," said Aizen Sousuke, embarrassed by all the formality. He was only a general, and they treat him as if he was the holy Emperor himself. "I only came to purchase for my friends."

"Yes, of course sir," said the merchant, still bowing low. "I have prepared only the finest for your sampling."

Aizen followed Matsumoto into the shop, nodding at the assembled children and women, who shyly blush and look away. A girl of fourteen waited in the serving room, trays of cups at the ready. Outside the small, round window, flakes of snow drifted down. Matsumoto showed the young general in before entering and taking the host's seat. "I must admit I was surprised you wanted our local teafor the envoy. He is from the great city, is he not?"

"Yes," said Aizen. "But he wishes to have something from our poor province to show that he has indeed come here."

Matsumoto bowed again. "My third daughter Reina will serve us."

The girl bowed, her fair skin and ruby lips brought to greater beauty by the small mole near her mouth. It was clear what Matsumoto had hoped to achieve via the tea tasting session. Even though the men in power preferred male lovers, they still needed heirs of their blood to hold the land in control; Matsumoto Reina could be the next Lady Aizen, if the young general was interested enough.

Aizen maintained a polite, distant air throughout. It wasn't that he was celibate – far from it – but he had yet to meet with someone of his older lover's caliber. Now that Hyuuga-san was deployed to Heian-kyo, Aizen was feeling rather lonely. But Hyuuga-san had stated it quite clearly that their liaison had to end. Aizen was no longer a young man in need of guidance; it was time he took someone under his wing. His own retainer Ogawa had been subtly hinting of a number of beautiful youths from prominent backgrounds suited to his status, but Aizen remained unmoved. He endured their company, but they were vain, braying young men too full of themselves and too detached from the realities of life. As a general of the White Army, Aizen felt it was more important to think about practicalities than the beauty of plum blossoms.

The tea merchant elaborated on the strengths and weaknesses of various brews and Aizen listened carefully. He knew he lacked knowledge in a number of so-called 'essential fields' because the current trend was to be good in all the arts. More than anything Aizen wished he could be like his ex-lover: as skilled a poet as he was a soldier. Hyuuga-san had laughed, early in their relationship, when Aizen asked him the key to crafting poetry.

" __My dearest Sousuke,"_ _  he had said, dark gray eyes brimming with love,  __"when your heart is too full of emotion and your tongue too unskilled to express your feelings, that is when poetry comes to you. The art of poetry is a swallow: it cannot be caught in a whole-hearted chase, yet it will come to roost in your own dwelling should it choose to do so."_ _

The girl bowed once again and left. Reina had good breeding, Aizen decided. She did not reveal a single flicker of emotion. Or perhaps she was already secretly betrothed to another and was thus only performing a service to her father.

Aizen mulled over the tastes and aftertastes of each cup. "I will choose this," he told the merchant. Matsumoto smiled and nodded. He would get the exact figures from Ogawa later, and they would haggle over price and delivery dates.

At the door Aizen slipped on his riding boots. The door scraped open and he turned around, hand automatically on his left hip where his sword usually hung. Then he stopped, startled by the newcomer.

It was a silver-haired youth, perhaps about fourteen or fifteen, slender and willowy. Aizen held his breath – he had never seen, never imagined that someone could be so pale and yet so strikingly beautiful. His cheeks and lips were pink, though, from the cold outside.

 __Kitsune._ _  Aizen's mind supplied the noun. Indeed – the youths' slim form, the fair skin, the half-lidded eyes... the only thing that marked him different from the mischievous fox spirit was the boy's serious mien.

The boy looked surprised by Aizen's staring. He lowered his umbrella and shook the snow off it before bowing low to the general. "Good afternoon, sir."

Aizen returned the courtesy. He seldom felt more clumsy in his life. "Good afternoon."

The boy half-smiled. It was as if time blurred. Aizen blinked stupidly.

"Ichimaru, I was afraid you'd gotten lost in the snow!" exclaimed the tea merchant. Matsumoto hastily hurried up, breaking the spell of tranquility in the foyer. "You must be freezing!"

"I'm fine, father," said the young man. "I've obtained the item you asked for."

Aizen straightened from his half-crouch. Matsumoto was alarmed. "Aizen-sama, I apologize! I did not mean to keep you from-"

"It is all right," said Aizen. His gaze lingered on the pale youth, who averted his slitted green-blue gaze. "I will leave now."

The tea merchant noted the interest Aizen showed in the young man and smiled quietly to himself as the general rode away in the snow. Ichimaru Gin, orphaned when Matsumoto's friend Ichimaru Akira died, would be well-placed. And Matsumoto's firstborn, Neji, would no longer need to feel threatened by the youth.

It would be a fortuitous arrangement.

 

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

 

After he returned from the tea merchant's, Aizen found himself staring into the exquisitely manicured garden. The boy's image lingered in his mind: the aquiline features with the melancholy evident in those amazing eyes, the soft tenor voice, the elegant hands that lowered the umbrella as if he was completing a dance.  __Ichimaru_ _ , the tea merchant had called the boy, so he was not a member of the family. But Ichimaru had addressed Matsumoto-san as father... a foster son, perhaps?

__Kitsune._ _

“Sousuke-dono?” Aizen turned around to see Ogawa, his head steward. Ogawa had been with his family for generations, and had watched Aizen grow up. In the entire household, only he was allowed to address Aizen familiarly. The old man had the low table laid out with tea. The steward bowed. “I assume you have found gifts suitable for Ukitake-san and Kyoraku-san's promotions.”

“Yes I have.” Aizen smiled. “Now I have two very capable adjutants. Hopefully that will translate to more time staying here to protect my people instead of all the petty politicking in the marshal's court.” He went over to his tea, then paused. “Ogawa, do inform me when the deliveries arrive?”

Ogawa was curious. “Sousuke-dono, pardon my – impudence, I suppose – but you have never been interested in the mundane affairs of your own household. What brought this curiosity about?”

Aizen scratched at his eyebrow, feeling rather embarrassed. Yet Ogawa was probably the most fervent in trying to find Aizen a companion. The general coughed and then said, “I, uh, I need your help.”

“You have it, Sousuke-dono.”

“There's a... a boy, at Matsumoto's. He's probably fourteen, fifteen. His name is Ichimaru. If you could find out more about him, um... family background, whether he has... someone, already, things like that.”

Ogawa brightened but did not tease his master. He had fretted over Aizen's reluctance to find a companion ever since Hyuuga-san had left for the capital Heian. Now that Aizen was nearly thirty, the young general should find a companion. Ogawa had tried, but none of the young men he had found had interested Aizen. But this boy Aizen had encountered by chance might raise Aizen's spirits.

 

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

 

“The tea is being delivered now, Aizen-sama,” said a servant. “Ogawa-san said you wanted to know.”

Aizen looked up from his book. “Yes, I-I did. Thank you, Yoshida.”

“There is also a messenger for you, Aizen-sama.”

The general got up from his seat. “A messenger? Who sent the message?”

“I'm not sure, Aizen-sama.” The servant bowed and left quickly. Aizen made his way to the room for visitors. For a bachelor like himself, having such a large mansion was a luxury, but the place was built for families. The servant at the door slid it open for Aizen who thanked her. He made it a point to be polite at all times.

He did not expect to see a slender, silver-haired youth sitting by the table with his back to the entrance. A steaming tray had been set before the guest, since it was lunchtime. Another one was ready and waiting. Ogawa was seated to the boy's left, and they were chatting amiably.

“Ah, Aizen-sama,” greeted Ogawa and rising to his feet. The boy stood as well, moving with a dancer's grace that fascinated Aizen immediately. Ogawa bowed. “Now that our lord is here I shall leave you. Please, enjoy your meal.”

“Aizen-taishou,” said Ichimaru with a quick bow. “My father asked me to deliver a letter to you, sir.”

Aizen strode over to the table and seated himself. “Th-thank you. I'll uh, take it from you after lunch.”

“Yes sir,” the boy half-smiled and Aizen felt himself tingle. He was turning into an adolescent again, the way he reacted. Ichimaru ate with small bites, never hasty nor lingering over the portions.

Casting his mind around for topics, Aizen asked, “Erm, why did your father se-send you? I'm sure the foreman can pass the letter to me as well.”

“I'm not certain, Aizen-taishou,” answered Ichimaru. “Father just said it was important and didn't want to risk losing it.”

“Matsumoto-san is, um... he's your-” Aizen was fumbling for words, something he had seldom experienced before. “Who, I mean h-how are you and Matsumoto-san related?”

Ichimaru glanced up and then lowered his lashes. The lashes were a dark silver-gray, and caught the light oddly. “He's my father's best friend. My real father.”

“So you're his foster son?” asked Aizen. He suddenly realized he had finished the fish slices in his lunch without even tasting them.

“Yes, sir. My father died last year, in a shipwreck.” The boy paused and looked up. “There were creditors and Matsumoto-jii-san paid them off for me. Then he adopted me, without asking me to change my surname as he wanted my family line to continue.”

“I see.” Aizen was mortified at his own response. Ichimaru had lost his father to the sea and all he could say was a pithy phrase? “Um, what about your mother?”

“She died when I was six, Aizen-taishou. A fever.”

The general sipped his soup and wondered how to dig himself out of the hole he had dug himself into. The silence grew while they ate. Then Aizen asked, “Uh, h-how is the Matsumoto family?”

“They are very good people, Aizen-taishou. Matsumoto-jii-san has seven children, and we get along quite well.”

Silence again. Aizen rubbed his wrists under the table, wondering how to undo the awkwardness. He was not unsociable, but Ichimaru just sitting there was causing Aizen's mind to falter. He coughed into his hand and then said, “The letter, please.”

Ichimaru handed it over. Aizen was unsure if he should open it there and then, but the boy made up his mind for him by bowing courteously. “I have to leave, Aizen-taishou.”

“Oh, ah, certainly. Allow me,” Aizen said, walking to hold the door. Ichimaru bowed once more at the door for the courtesy before exiting. Within minutes, Ogawa materialized. Aizen shook his head and sighed. “That was awkward.”

“Yes, it was,” concurred Ogawa. Aizen gave him a look, but the old retainer brushed it aside. “Of course I was listening in, what did you expect an old man like me to do?”

Aizen shrugged, then his shoulders sagged comically. “Hyuuga-san is going to laugh if he hears of this. I've lost all my people skills.”

Ogawa chuckled but smothered the sound easily. “There is an opening for an assistant for the Stores supervisor.”

Aizen blinked. “Eh?”

Shaking his head, Ogawa laughed again. “It's good to see you starting to fall in love again, Sousuke-dono.”

The young general flushed. “I'm uh, going to read the letter h-he brought. We'll, um, we'll talk later.”

 

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

 

Ichimaru took the job, much to Aizen's pleased surprise. He found an afternoon after a meeting with Ukitake and Kyoraku to visit the main storehouse for grain. Ichimaru was, of all things, crouching on the ground and peering under the raised floorboards. He was trying to reach for something when he heard the door open.

“Good afternoon, Aizen-taishou,” said Ichimaru when he saw the general enter. He stood up to welcome Aizen, brushing himself off.

Aizen smiled, feeling too-conscious of himself again. “Good, uh, good afternoon. How is – how is everything?”

“Everything is fine, Aizen-taishou.” The boy nodded and waited.

Aizen halted and then asked in a rush, “If I may, um... why did you accept the job? I'm sure Matsumoto-san provides you with enough.”

“I intend to repay him, sir. He paid off the creditors and it wasn't a small sum. He's... been kindness itself to me.” Ichimaru smiled faintly. “There is nothing I can do, really, over in the household, but I can repay him through working here.”

_My lord Aizen-taishou, I was very honored by your patronage. My foster son, Ichimaru, will be the liaison between my humble shop and the honorable Aizen household. Do feel free to call on him whenever you need; he will be more than willing to serve._

__ Putting away all thoughts of the letter Matsumoto had sent him, Aizen said, “That's very honorable of you.”

“Thank you sir,” said Ichimaru.

There was another lengthy pause. Aizen resisted the urge to swing his hands. “Uh. Did you, um, did you lose something under the floor?”

“I guess you could say that,” answered Ichimaru with a shy grin. “A, a kitten ran in and it isn't coming out. It just hisses at me when I reach for it.”

Aizen warmed at the smile. He bent down and peered beneath the boards. Two glints of light showed where the little feline was hiding. Aizen made a little face; he liked cats but at a distance. Close to their eyes unnerved him. Still, it was only a tiny kitten.

Ichimaru was watching when Aizen reached in, and then he jumped when Aizen yelped. The general withdrew his hand, the kitten hanging on with all its claws. Ichimaru quickly darted forward to cradle the kitten , carefully disengaging twenty tiny claws from Aizen's hand.

Aizen winced at the sensation of little needles being pulled from the back of his hands and wrists. Thus freed of the kitten, he cheered up to see Ichimaru beaming at the little black-and-white kitten. The kitten squirmed and mewled at being deprived of its chew-hand. The silver-haired boy found an empty box and placed the kitten in it gingerly. Then he grabbed the medicine chest and came to Aizen.

“Could I-” Ichimaru gestured at Aizen's hand.

“I-it's fine, I'm barely scratched,” said Aizen. Ichimaru peered at the general, then reached for the hand that had tiny bleeding cuts all over it. As if hynotized, Aizen let the boy clean the wounds and then apply some salve over it. The cool sensation of the cream being smoothed over his skin was causing heat to pool below his stomach.

When Ichimaru had finished, Aizen took his left hand with his right, feeling the remnant warmth from Ichimaru's fingers lingering on his skin. “Thank you.”

“Thank you, Aizen-taishou, for the kitten,” said Ichimaru, giving a gentle smile as he packed up the medicine chest.

Aizen's heart tightened. “You should smile more often.”

Startled by the statement, Ichimaru looked up. His blue-green gaze was bashful and surprised. “I... I beg your pardon?”

“When you smile,” said Aizen, “it's like... when you smile you-you light up, from inside.”

Ichimaru flushed, his cheeks reddening and he glanced away to the side. Aizen was mortified; what was he saying?

“I, uh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, to, uh... I should – I'll see you again,” stammered Aizen. “I, um, I-I'll erm. I'm sorry.”

 

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

 

Ukitake and Kyoraku studied their general. Aizen frowned. “What?”

“Spill. How long have you had him?” said Kyoraku with a smirk.

“Had who?”

Kyoraku snorted, his wavy hair bunched in a ponytail at the nape of his neck. “You have someone new in your life, taishou. You're all radiant.”

Aizen frowned. “I – I don't  __have_ _ anyone.”

Ukitake grinned. “Yeah, I really believe that. We heard about the new boy who just moved into your household. Ogawa-san said he was a good boy, very conscientious. But let's hear from the horse's mouth. What's he like?”

“I-ichimaru?” stuttered Aizen, for once discomforted by his two adjutants. “He's not – I haven't, I – we, we're... I-I think we should get back to the topic at hand. We have to write our report to the marshal.”

The two adjutants grinned. Ukitake quipped softly, “Evasive measures taken.”

 

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

 

It had been almost half a year since Ichimaru had moved into the Aizen mansion. Aizen saw him now and then, but Ichimaru was too aware of the difference in status and shied away from one-to-one encounters. The few fleeting conversations they did have was full of pauses and silences, neither quite knowing how to address the other. The kitten was a topic, at least for a while, and then the usual weather, food, work...

Ogawa, most appropriately, found the perfect excuse. “Sousuke-dono, since it's so close to the summer festivals, would you like for me to arrange an outing for the household?”

“That would be very nice, thank you,” said Aizen as he completed another document. Then his brain kicked in. “The whole household?”

“Yes, Sousuke-dono. Everyone. We'll have games, and a feast, and just have a day off to have fun.”

Aizen smiled. “That sounds interesting. Thank you for arranging it, Ogawa.”

“You might want to think of what to say to the boy between now and then,” suggested Ogawa. “The quiet moments can be rather daunting for a young man.”

Oh yes. Young man: Ichimaru was fifteen now, the coming-of-age ceremony having just passed. He was now his own person, not bound to Matsumoto's clan through adoption since he retained his own surname. Aizen had been at the little ceremony, where only Matsumoto's family and himself were present for Matsumoto-san to present Ichimaru with a short dagger owned by Ichimaru's father and gifted to Matsumoto twenty years ago. Others had also presented small tokens, except for Matsumoto Neji, the eldest son, whom Aizen discovered to harbor resentment against Ichimaru. Now that Ichimaru was accounted an adult, Neji's negative attitude was starting to ebb and spoke more cordially to the silver-haired youth.

The servants and servitors of the Aizen household were pleased to have a day off. Their families came along to their day of enjoyment. Aizen sat under a tree, basking in the conviviality and familial warmth like a moth around a flame. A glimmer of silver caught his eye: Ichimaru was playing with a little girl, singing a children's rhyme. The three-year-old was charmed as Ichimaru's hands danced pictures in the air before the girl, and before long she was learning the words and gesticulating in time with the beat. Aizen relaxed and smiled indulgently while Ichimaru taught the child more songs, the boy's tenor voice drifting through the chatter of families with their own children. Ogawa came to pass the general a plate of snacks.

“Sousuke-dono, I think this would be a good time to talk with the boy.”

“Hm?” Aizen worried his lower lip. “What if – what if I have nothing to say?”

The old man grinned. “In that case, offer him cake.”

He held out a second plate and nodded at Ichimaru meaningfully. Aizen inhaled and breathed out slowly. He had been less anxious on the battlefield. He swallowed and strode over to the two. Ichimaru seemed to sense his approach and looked up. Aizen smiled. “Hello.”

“Hello, Aizen-taishou,” said Ichimaru. He was about to stand when Aizen shook his head, instead hunkering down. “Kaoru, this is Aizen-taishou. Say good afternoon to him.”

The girl blinked her large eyes at him and then chirped sweetly, “Good afternoon!”

“Good afternoon to you too, Kaoru-chan,” returned Aizen. “Would you like some cake?”

“Yes please!” She was adorable, Aizen had to admit, as she took a plate and pattered to her parents. Ichimaru waited until Aizen had sat down. Belatedly Aizen realized he had only one plate left, but there was no way he would leave Ichimaru alone while he got more.

The young man was observing Kaoru singing and acting out the song to her parents, the stable master's family. Aizen chuckled embarrassedly. “If you don't mind helping me to finish this plate?”

“Oh!” Ichimaru smiled at the general, who felt his heart trip-hammer into overdrive. “Um, thank you Aizen-taishou. That is very nice of you.”

“You've known Kaoru long?” asked Aizen, who wasn't eating as much as watching Ichimaru nibble on the cake in his slender fingers.

“Not really, just a month or so,” said Ichimaru. He caught Aizen's admiring gaze and turned away. “I like children.”

Aizen chuckled. “I'm not good with them. I never know what to do or say around them.”

“I think you just have to be yourself,” said Ichimaru thoughtfully. “They don't really mind what you say or do as long as you're genuine.”

The sun shone and Ichimaru's silver hair gleamed brightly. Aizen studied it out of the corner of his eye, but the youth caught him looking. Ichimaru took a lock and tugged at it. Rather bemused, Aizen asked, “Why is your hair silver?”

Bashful with the scrutiny, Ichimaru shrugged. “My mother had silver hair too. My father said he rescued her from a shipwreck and joked that she was a sprite.”

Aizen mulled over the information. “What do you think?”

“Me?” Ichimaru paused in his eating. “I don't know. Maybe she was a water sprite, maybe not. I do know she named me the first word she learned.”

“What would that be?” Aizen asked, trying not to sound too eager to learn Ichimaru's name.

The young man wasn't fooled, judging by his slight blush. Or perhaps the sun was giving him some much-needed color. “She named me Gin.”

_Gin._ Aizen rolled the name over his mind. “It suits you.”

Ichimaru smiled shyly. “If... if you like, you can call me that too, Aizen-taishou.”

The general suddenly found it hard to swallow. He made a coughing sound in his throat to mask the difficulty in speaking. “I-I can?”

“You  _ _are__ the general,” Ichimaru pointed out.

Amused, Aizen chuckled. He decided to try the name out. “Gin.”

“Yes, Aizen-taishou?” The young man locked gazes with Aizen, and the general suddenly found himself very thankful that he was sitting down, because if he had been standing he might have stumbled. He had never been this affected by anyone, not even Hyuuga-san, his first lover.

He swallowed again, praying to whichever god or goddess that looked after men clumsy with words that he would not say something stupid. “Um.”

__Well. That was eloquent._ _

The brown-eyed general found himself unable to look away from the clear blue-green gaze. “Gin, I would... I wonder if you would like to learn anything... fr-from me?”

This was an invitation that Aizen knew Gin understood. This was it, the moment Aizen had steeled himself for for the past six months. He had agonized over it, wondering if Ichimaru – if Gin would accept the implied relationship. That was how it went, with older men instructing their potential lovers in the arts or in combat, developing a new generation of capable young men who were also gentlemen. Aizen had benefited greatly with Hyuuga-san's careful tending, and had flourished under Hyuuga-san's care. He never thought he would be offering the same now to another young man, but then he hadn't thought he would meet Gin.

Gin's lashes lowered and he ducked his head away. Aizen guessed the youth understood and was trying to figure out an answer. Aizen looked at his own knees and managed to stammer, “I-if you need time t-to consider...”

“I'd be very honored to learn from you, Aizen-taishou,” murmured Gin. His voice was probably softer than a kitten's, but to Aizen it was as if a choir of demigods had sung. Gin peeked through his lashes at the general. “If I could learn how to use a, a sword, perhaps? To defend myself and those I care for?”

“Of course,” answered Aizen, voice thick with relief. He was grinning widely. “I'll uh, we'll talk about this later. Don't – don't leave early, alright?”

For the general, Gin's shy smile shone brighter than the sun goddess Amaterasu herself.  __Hyuuga-san was right. Poetry comes to those who run short of words to describe their feelings._ _

 

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

 

When spring rolled around and the cherry trees burst into bloom, Aizen thought it could signify a new beginning for him and Gin. After the young man had accepted his proposition – that was what it was, after all – Gin had not been willing to move beyond the roles of instructor and student. The daily contact was limited to hands correcting stances and to sparring sessions. It drove Aizen crazy to be so near and yet so far from what he yearned for, but he did not want to push Gin too hard. He himself had tested Hyuuga for nearly three years before accepting the older man as a lover, but then Aizen had been twelve when Hyuuga approached him.

Gin was shaping up as a swordsman. He was too slim to be a warrior, but as a swordsman he had the deadly focus and graceful precision necessary to be the best. He was coming closer towards defeating Aizen even when the general gave his all.

That evening after the first meeting with the marshal, Aizen returned to the mansion feeling empty. He missed the morning training with Gin, he was unable to dissuade the marshal from putting in a petition to start inter-division war games, and he had to bolster the forces who were tax collecting, because the Emperor decided to raise taxes to increase military spending.

It had not been a good day. Ogawa was at the door and instead of letting the general go to his bath, directed him instead to the visitor's room.

“Ogawa, what is it now?” queried Aizen. He slid the door open and stopped.

Gin was there, waiting. He always went home immediately after their training, and on days when Aizen was unavailable he would not be at the general's mansion at all. “Taishou. I'm glad you're home.”

“I-I didn't expect to see you today,” said Aizen, suddenly feeling lighter in his heart. At least Gin addressed him as  _ _taishou__ only, without the fuller, more formal name. “What is it?”

The young man smiled and rubbed the tip of his nose. “I, um... do you have anything important tomorrow, taishou?”

All his efforts to get Gin to allow Aizen to be more demonstrative had failed, but Aizen was content with Gin's possessiveness whenever they had functions in the mansion which had required Aizen to invite other prominent families. The young men from these families had clustered around Aizen, wanting to get into the general's good books and often flirting brazenly. Gin had bristled when these young men brushed him off as a mere servant, but a simple gesture from Aizen usually soothed Gin's feathers. Often it was just a touch on the hand (the only place Gin allowed skin to skin contact outside of a sparring session) or a shared smile, but Gin could see that he was the most important in Aizen's eyes.

The silver-haired young man was fiddling with his sleeve now. Aizen waited. After a few minutes Gin looked up. “I-I wondered if you'd like to, um, join me for-for cherry blossom viewing. Perhaps we-we can go together tomorrow?”

“That would be most excellent,” said Aizen warmly. He thrilled within to have Gin inviting him out. It was another leap forward. Aizen was reluctant to let Gin take the initiative, but was chary of forcing Gin too much forward against his will. “Where is this place? When shall we meet?”

“It's where the Matsumoto family usually go, but they've already been. Um, I-I could come here in the morning so we can go together?”

Although he was looking forward to the next morning, Aizen wished he could just invite the young man to stay the night. However, they had yet to reach that stage in their association, and Gin was trying to remove the wall he built around himself.

 

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

 

They had to hike up the hilly path, but there was a dim bend in front that appeared rather forbidding. Aizen's brows came together slightly; it was the perfect spot for an ambush and he had only a sword with him. But if he couldn't trust Gin, who could he trust?

“Maybe you should c-close your eyes,” said Gin who was leading the way.

“Close my eyes,” repeated Aizen, raising an eyebrow in question.

Gin half-smiled and made Aizen's heart hammer again. “Please. I promise you won't fall and... and it will be worth it.”

The general wrinkled his nose and then shut his eyes. “Alright then, I place myself in your hands.”

Said hands took up Aizen's larger ones. Gin's fingers and palms were cool and smooth, like jade made flesh, and they gently led Aizen forward. Gin's soft voice also told him where to put his feet and then the smaller hands fell away.

“Open your eyes, taishou.”

Aizen obeyed and inhaled slowly. There was a clear stream singing through a grove of cherry trees, the branches overladen with bright pink blossoms. It hurt his eyes, almost, to take in the sunlit cherry trees. Gin smiled widely and happily to see Aizen looking about him with such pleasure and awe. Aizen breathed quietly, languidly, feeling the scent of cherry blossoms wash over him. Then he gazed at the young man who had brought him here.

“Thank you, Gin,” said Aizen. The warm sincerity in his brown eyes caused a blush to rise in Gin's cheeks, but Gin blushed easily anyway.

“I'll set out the mat and the sake,” Gin stammered, ducking away from the older man's appreciative grin. Aizen helped him to roll out the grass mat and then lay out a rough-woven cloth over it, weighing down the corners with river-smoothened stones. Gin began setting out plates efficiently, his box of snacks placed on the side of the mat. Aizen watched the silver-haired youth work, absorbing the moment with startling clarity.

Gin reached for the snacks and the general assisted, holding the box upright. Their eyes met, the two only inches from each other. Aizen felt his breath hitch. This was the moment, he knew it; Gin's fluttering lashes indicated that the young man knew it as well.

The fragrance of cherry blossoms light and all-encompassing, the rushing melody of the stream, the tender warmth of the spring sun fell away. Aizen leaned forward, and Gin stilled, his eyes half-lidded and lips trembling. So close now, Aizen could feel little shallow wafts of air from Gin brushing his face; a shadow's inch more, just another slight motion forward.

Gin drew back abruptly with a shiver. Aizen halted, half-raised on his knees. Gin's gaze darted around and lighted on the sake cups. “I-I should wash the cups b-before we, um, before I, I mean-”

“It's alright, Gin,” said Aizen, falling back to sit down. He knew he hadn't been able to contain the flash of disappointment, but he made himself smile as he usually did. Instead of facing Gin, the general busied himself with unloading the basket. As he was retrieving the second little box Aizen was suddenly yanked to face Gin and the youth had-

__This is a dream, isn't it?_ _

Gin's lips were warm and soft, like cream or silk or petals. And he had a light, clean scent that Aizen could not believe he was inhaling. Gin was cupping Aizen's face less firmly now and withdrawing slightly. Aizen's own hands quickly reached around the slender body and up Gin's back, holding the young man close. Rising to his knees Aizen tucked Gin closer to his own frame, even as Gin's fingers slipped down to grab at broad shoulders.

Before he could lose control at the unexpected kiss, Aizen pulled away. Gin's face was flushed, a delicate pink to match the cherry blooming all around. He was also panting a little, lips slightly parted and moist, and Aizen wondered if he could kiss Gin again until those lips were swollen and begging. The young man had his eyes closed tightly and his fingers were gripping Aizen's clothes with white-knuckled intensity. Aizen swallowed and reined in his passion, stroking Gin's hair back from the pale face, rubbing tender circles on Gin's rigid back until he was no longer stiff as a board.

When Gin had relaxed enough he smiled shyly up at Aizen, who returned the beatific expression. The youth, apparently processed what had transpired at a slower rate, buried his face into Aizen's chest. Aizen thought his heart would burst with an extravagance of joy: in his wildest dreams he had never thought Gin would make the first move like this. He pressed a soft kiss to the top of Gin's head before carefully, reluctantly releasing Gin from his embrace. Gin kept nibbling his lips and glancing at Aizen. Although he was no longer within Aizen's arms, Gin shuffled over to sit next to the older man, leaning into the muscled body while they sat under the cherry trees. The older man was amused by Gin's bashful boldness, as they spent the rest of the morning enjoying a delicious meal. After they started on the sake, Aizen tugged Gin closer and dared himself to plant kisses on Gin's face after every cup of sake. Eventually Gin put away the wine and leaned into the kisses: a shy tongue darting out to taste Aizen's mouth; a coy denial of entry for Aizen's; timid, soft moans that deepened as Aizen stroked down his arm and then slipped around his waist.

But when Aizen pulled Gin closer he found Gin's palms pushing him away. The general paused in his advances. Gin was looking rather apprehensive, gulping nervously, his thin fingers curling and uncurling.

Aizen smiled and rubbed his nose against Gin's forehead. “It's alright, Kitsune. We have time enough. Thank you.”

Gin didn't move away, but shifted so he snuggled into Aizen. “Kitsune?”

Aizen blinked a few times and then chuckled abashedly. “That was... that was what I named you when - when I didn't know your real name. I-if you dislike it I won't say that anymore.”

“N-no,” said Gin. At the slightly crestfallen look on Aizen's face he stuttered, “I don't mean I didn't like it, I-I just meant I didn't mind you calling me that. I, um... like it, actually.”

Aizen brightened. “Really?”

“Please, call me that when... when we're alone.” Gin smiled and looked at his own hands, conscious of the general's body heat, of the shared warmth between them, of Aizen's proximity.

 

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

 

Kyoraku and Ukitake observed the pair from the sidelines as Aizen and Gin ran through the motions again. The general did not even register their presence, pausing only to correct a hold or a transition that had been done wrongly. Only after the two had completed their cycle did Aizen see his adjutants waiting.

“Good morning,” he said, walking over. “You're earlier than expected. What news from the Marshal?”

“Nothing much, same old drivel about maintaining our troops. So that's your boy?” said Kyoraku. It was his first time seeing Ichimaru Gin. With a smirk he said, “I can see why you prefer to spend time on him than pore over the Marshal's letters.”

Gin came over and handed a towel to the general, then bowed respectfully to the two adjutants before leaving. Ukitake raised his black eyebrows – there were crude jokes and bets about where else he had black hair, but the enigmatic white-haired man never revealed a word as to the truth. “Well-trained too, hmm? You've found yourself a treasure. Why can't we get someone like this?”

“You're just an adjutant, Jyuu,” drawled Kyoraku. “Maybe when you're as charming as our general here.”

Aizen grinned lopsidedly. “Make fun of me when he's not around, alright? Let's get down to business.”

“There isn't much business to be discussed,” said Ukitake. He observed Aizen carefully. “Have you two become intimates?”

“That is none of your business,” said Aizen, a shade sharply. Kyoraku nudged Ukitake and gave a warning wink. Aizen breathed out and released the tension in his shoulders. He was almost as possessive as Gin when it came to the two of them, and Aizen was absurdly proud of that fact.

 

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

 

The orders came to Aizen late in the afternoon. The White Army was to put down rebels that had set up shop in the hills about three months' march away. They had been harassing the towns around the hills more frequently, killing and looting with greater abandonment, and had grown to the strength of a few thousands.

Aizen was to set off two weeks after receiving the order. Gin was there with him when Aizen read the Marshal's decision. The general put the scroll down and sighed.

“Guess that's it for the Shrine Festivities this year,” he said to the young man. Gin half-smiled and removed the empty cup of tea. Aizen touched Gin's hand. “Go with the Matsumoto family. They're as close to you as anyone else.”

Gin's blue-green gaze flickered with some unknown emotion, but he merely nodded and left the room. Aizen exhaled heavily again. Ever since that serene spring day, Aizen had been courting Gin's affections more steadily but the young man was as elusive as a butterfly's flight pattern. He allowed kisses and light petting, no more. Aizen chafed at the lack of progress, but he knew that was the libidinous part of him talking. The rational aspect told him that Gin was already moving faster than Aizen himself did. Yet, day after day, being in contact with that young man, breathing in his light fragrance, delighting in brief smiles... that rational part in Aizen was rapidly withering away to be replaced with a thirst for Gin at all times. The parting at the end of each day weighed ever more heavily on Aizen.

He shook himself. There were more things to think about. The men had to be rallied and kitted, strategy had to be planned, schedules of rations to be prepared. Aizen was not willing to go to war over petty squabbles over land, preferring the route of diplomacy, but when there were rebels it was a different matter. Now the unity and peace of the land had to be held and protected.

 

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

 

The evening before they were to set off for battle was one of the hardest for any soldier. Aizen checked through his equipment and polished his sword once more. Kyoka Suigetsu would delight in the song of war again, Aizen knew, but he only wished to end the strife as soon as possible.

There came a knock on the door. Aizen supposed it was Ogawa with his usual array of medications and protective amulets, but was pleased and surprised to see Gin standing at the door with a box of medicines.

“Ogawa-san told me to prepare these,” said Gin, packing the supplies into Aizen's personal items.

“Thank you,” said Aizen. He sheathed Kyoka Suigetsu and placed her on her stand. Gin remained at the wrapped bag. Aizen walked over and sat beside Gin. “Is there anything else?”

“Yes,” said Gin quietly. “Can't you take me with you?”

“You're not a soldier, Gin. As adept as you are with the sword, you are not trained to face the enemy on a battlefield.” Aizen flicked silver hair from Gin's brow. “Stay here and watch over my people.”

Gin lowered his face. Aizen's fingers trailed down a cheek and up to cup Gin's face. The youth peered up through his lashes and then raised his hand to hold Aizen's wrist.

“Taishou, please ask me to stay the night?” he said, his voice softer than a moth's wing. Aizen stopped breathing and studied the face before him. Gin was serious, the look in his eyes firm and unwavering, although a deep tenderness shimmered from within the blue-green gaze. Gin, mistaking Aizen's silence for rejection, pressed his lips to Aizen's palm. “I... I do not know what to do, not exactly, b-but I wish to stay here tonight with you.”

The general breathed out shakily. “Kitsune, I will return. It is only a skirmish, nothing more.”

“But it is at least six months without you, a-and I...” Gin bit his lower lip. “Let me stay the night, taishou, let me stay here with you tonight, please.”

Aizen discovered that, as good a soldier as he was, he was powerless when Gin spoke like that. There was no way to defend against the quiet plea, the gentle insistence, and who in his right mind would deny Gin's request anyway?

“Stay with me tonight, Gin. Stay all night.”

“Yes, taishou.”

The general took Gin's hand and led the young man into his bedroom. Swiftly Gin followed, only the barest hint of apprehension showing. The bed was already laid out and Aizen supposed Gin had informed Ogawa of his purpose, because a bowl of oil was prepared and was being warmed near the lamp. Gin fidgeted slightly, his nervousness charming and inviting.

“What d-do I do, taishou?” he asked, toes curling and shuffling over the other foot's. “I've heard b-but I... I'm not sure-”

“There is nothing to fear, Kitsune,” murmured Aizen, caressing the young man languidly. “I will take care of you. I will be gentle and take care of you.”

Aizen carefully undressed Gin and removed his own clothing, every motion a study of tenderness. As Aizen bent to kiss the young man, he whispered against parted lips, “I promise I will come back to you.”

“Promise?” Gin trembled and allowed himself to meet the increasingly urgent kiss. He drew away and stared into intense brown eyes. “Promise?”

“I promise.”


	2. The General and the Blood

Gin opened his eyes to see a broad expanse of smooth skin, marred only by three thin scars that traced from the left shoulder to the line of the spine. He smiled and shuffled forward, imprinting his lips to warm skin. “Morning, taishou.”

“Mm.” Aizen shifted and Gin half-sat up, bracing himself on his right elbow. Even after six years, Gin still found it remarkable how little it took to make Aizen happy. A morning kiss, a simple breakfast – there were reasons why his people loved him far more than they love some distant Emperor's court. Aizen woke up with a muzzy smile. “Good morning, my love.”

Gin rested his chin on Aizen's shoulder. “Time to wake up, taishou.”

“I do wish you'd call my name, Kitsune,” said Aizen sleepily. “You could be referring to anyone.”

“I only call you taishou, you know that,” said Gin, ignoring the usual plaint. It was a fine winter morning from what little Gin could tell from the window while he tied on his belt. Aizen padded over and embraced him from behind, nuzzling into Gin's neck. “Taishou. You have to get dressed. Your wife and son are waiting for us to start breakfast.”

Aizen chuckled and complied. “You'll be out today?”

“I have to go on my rounds, check if everyone is provided for,” said Gin. “The old folk are saying this is a harsher winter than before. Can you tell if there is a difference?”

“Not really,” admitted Aizen, carelessly combing his hair. Gin rolled his eyes with affection and took over. Aizen snagged another kiss. “Most winters I'm off to the east or the north, remember?”

“Hmm. Well, we've enjoyed the last two years of rest,” commented Gin as they made their way to the breakfast table.

“I remember you being so worried the first time you saw me off,” murmured Aizen. “And the very warm welcome you gave me on my return.”

Gin elbowed his lover's ribs. “If you hadn't returned, I'd have shown you real heat – in hell.”

“I never break my promises, love.”

They slid the door open. Aizen's wife, Lady Minako was already there, along with their three-year-old son Takeshi. Lady Minako greeted them without rising, as she was heavy with child. The boy jumped to his feet and toddled over to hug first Aizen before being scooped up by Gin. “Mornin', papa, Gin-jii.”

“Good morning to you too. And what-” Gin shifted Takeshi to his other arm “-is Takeshi-chan doing today?”

The boy beamed. “Drawing!”

“He means calligraphy,” remarked Lady Minako. She placed bowls of rice for Gin and Aizen on the table. “I'm getting him to write out in the yard.”

“In the yard?” asked Aizen. “He might catch a cold.”

The lady smiled. “Or, if you want your study to be peppered with ink blots, I could always put him there.”

“Ah. I see.” Aizen started eating and the rest followed. Takeshi bounced happily in Gin's lap while the young man fed him. Lady Minako motioned for the attending servant girl to serve the boy properly, freeing Gin up for his own breakfast. Aizen sipped his soup. “We'll have dinner together tonight, Minako?”

“Of course. Gin-san, will you be joining us?”

Gin smiled. “No. It's my turn to watch Takeshi anyway. You two have fun.”

“I wanna haf fun too,” announced Takeshi. “Funny fun funfun fun funnest-”

Aizen merely chuckled while Gin and Minako entertained Takeshi. Gin liked Aizen's wife and son, often volunteering for baby detail when Takeshi was younger. In fact, it had been the young man who insisted on Aizen getting married and having children.

 

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

 

“You need an heir, taishou, and a family to balance you. Remind you of what you're fighting for,” he had said with unusual firmness. That was after Aizen's second long trip away.

Aizen hadn't capitulated easily. “I can't fight only for you?”

“We have to think about the second generation too, taishou,” Gin had said. “Besides, I like children and I can't give you any. It is the proper thing to do as well.”

“Fine. I'll find a good woman, get married, have half a dozen kids... on one condition.” Aizen had been amused by Gin's wary expression. “You stay here with me, because you _are_ family to me.”

“What if your lady objects?” asked Gin.

“Then she won't be my lady,” Aizen had said in a very final tone.

 

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

 

As he rode out to the first of many farmsteads Gin wondered if he should settle down too. He had a stable job now, working as Aizen's steward after Ogawa passed away, he had the means to purchase a house – not that Aizen wouldn't give him one if Gin asked – and he was rather envious about Takeshi.

He loved the boy: it was hard not to when a miniature Aizen with dark waves of hair and bright eyes welcomed him with a huge hug every time they met, be it the day before or perhaps five minutes ago. Aizen joked that his son evidently inherited his father's liking for silver hair, but neither men mentioned the tease in front of Lady Minako lest she took it the wrong way.

The woman was from a respectable family and had accepted that she was not the center of Aizen's life. The general was a good man, and made it a point to spend time with her on special occasions as well as spending the night with her on even nights. She was cordial and polite to Gin, but the young man knew that she somewhat resented his bond with Aizen. She couldn't help it, but then many wives across the country had the same problem. But she could give Aizen children, which Gin was grateful to her for. Takeshi had been a blessing, and the coming baby would add to the joy already prevalent within the household. Gin was looking forward to taking care of another miniature Aizen, or perhaps a young lady with dark brown hair and solemn, beautiful brown eyes.

 

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

 

“Hill bandits,” said Kyoraku. “They rob the tithing carts, steal into the hills and cover their tracks, lie low for the winter. They're robbing my people blind.”

“It's not fair,” agreed Aizen. “Do we have any clues as to their hideouts?”

Ukitake indicated a number of locations on the map laid out on the table among them. “There are cave systems here, here, here and here. I sent my boys as scouts, found some evidence of these places being used as shelters but most of the caves have collapsed or are inaccessible. We are still looking though. There are far too many caves in this place.”

Aizen examined the map. “They would need to be near a path, and also a place with a good vantage point. There has to be someone on lookout for our scouts.”

“There are perhaps seven or eight dozens, a hundred caves.” Kyoraku took a deep drag of his pipe and blew out a thin stream of smoke. “That's just on the east side of the West hills.”

Coughing, Aizen waved the smoke away. He glanced up and smiled. “Gin. Come on in.”

“Good evening Ukitake-san, Kyoraku-san,” said Gin as he placed a tray of steaming dumplings on another side table. He walked over where Aizen took his hand. “Taishou, Lady Minako asks when you wish to start dinner.”

“Oh, right,” said Aizen, exasperated at his own forgetfulness. “Uh, Jyuushiro, Shunsui, are you two having dinner here?”

Kyoraku shrugged. “Unless we're imposing.”

“Of course not,” said Gin with a broad smile. “I'll ask them to set a table for you here, or would you mind having dinner with me and Takeshi?”

Ukitake smiled in return as he tied his long white hair back in a ponytail. “That would be ideal. Thank you, Ichimaru-kun.”

“You're welcome, though the honor is mine.”

Aizen rolled up the maps and put them onto a shelf. “Gin, remember we have archery training tomorrow.”

“I won't forget.” Gin kissed the general on his cheek. “Good night.”

Waving a farewell to his adjutants and his lover, Aizen ran off to dine with his wife. Gin shook his head and sighed, almost sentimentally, then collected himself. “I'll inform the kitchen now, sirs. Please come with me.”

After Gin exited, Kyoraku took another long pull of his pipe. “Boy's shaped up well.”

“Yes he has,” agreed Ukitake quietly. “Such a fine young man.”

 

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

 

After he drew the sword back in a circle to his chest, Gin let out his breath evenly. Every morning he went through the routine of sword practice, and every morning he discovered new things about himself through meditation and action.

Aizen moved over. “That was almost perfect,” he praised softly. “Breathing was rather strained near the end though. What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking about joining you on that sweep over in the West hills.” Gin put his bamboo sword down. “But I know you'll want me to stay here.”

“Who else can I trust to defend my family?” asked Aizen. He slung an arm over Gin's thin shoulders. “I know you will fight to your last breath to keep them safe.”

Gin smiled and shifted nearer to his older lover. “Of course.”

As the pair made their way to the changing rooms, Ukitake and Kyoraku hailed their general over. Gin followed when Aizen took his hand: he usually kept out of such discussions. Kyoraku unrolled a message tube and the three men read it. Gin stayed away. This was Aizen's work, not his.

“I suppose we should leave today if we want to avoid the worst of the winter storms,” conceded Aizen after some muttered conversation. “Gin, get my sword and light armor ready. Are you two prepared?”

“Yes.”

“Assemble five dozen men. We'll search and seal every single cave we come across.” Aizen exhaled. “At least we know their full strength. Do you have a drawing of the informant? I don't want us to kill the wrong man.”

Gin left them plotting strategy. Lady Minako had to be informed, as was the stable master to ready the horses. It could be weeks or months before the men returned, and he had to steel himself for the ache of parting.

 

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

 

When the news came a fortnight later Gin did not collapse in grief.

Lady Minako did, and Gin sent for the family physician. Takeshi was not really able to comprehend the news, so Gin asked Matsumoto Neji to watch over Takeshi for the day while the boy played with Neji's sons. Kyoraku and Ukitake had returned with badly treated injuries, and Gin had another doctor see to them. There was the issue of informing the men's families, and that task was undertaken by Gin himself, riding house to house, giving tidings he never wanted to tell anyone. Then Gin took Takeshi back for dinner, listening to the boy prattle about a new game he learned.

Only at the end of his day did Gin stumble into his quarters, the one he shared with his lover. He brushed his hair, washed his face, put on bedclothes, locked the door, and lay down on his bed.

Only then did the slender man curl up into a fetal position on his futon, weeping as if his heart would break, all through the long night.

 

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

 

The next morning Gin set the men's affairs in order, arranging for pensions, but he did not prepare for a funeral. Lady Minako was secluded in her room, while Takeshi was allowed to roam about the house freely, though his cheer was dampened by the heavy atmosphere throughout the household.

Ukitake, his right arm in a sling, said, “We should be preparing for the ceremony.”

“Not yet,” said Gin.

Kyoraku puffed on his pipe. “Wishing that he'll come back won't make him come back, Ichimaru.”

Gin blinked and then stared at the two adjutants. “There is no body. He might make it.”

“They fell into a ravine that was hundreds of feet deep. He's not coming back,” said Ukitake gently. “Ichimaru-san, I understand your feelings, but he's not coming home.”

“Your meals will be served to your rooms.” Gin ignored the man. “I have matters to see to. Please excuse me.”

The long day was kept full of tasks, Gin numbing himself with little errands that were usually assigned to the other servants or servitors. When he stepped into his room after dinner he closed it quickly, unwilling to step out again.

He should not have closed it. Kyoraku and Ukitake were both seated at the one low table in the room, looking very serious.

“You should not be here,” said Gin, too exhausted to even be civil.

Kyoraku stood up, looming over the slightly-built Gin. “We've come about the will.”

“The will?” asked Gin.

“The one where he left everything to you instead of his son,” supplied Ukitake smoothly.

Gin frowned. “There is no such will that I know of.” Then his tired mind clicked and his eyes widened. “You're not injured.”

The white-haired adjutant smiled innocently. “Of course not. Why should we be?” The smile snapped off like a candle blown out by the wind. “Where is his will, Ichimaru?”

“I don't know,” replied Gin, edging towards the door.

Kyoraku grinned crookedly. “I really doubt that. You're the one closest to that idiot Aizen. Where is his will, Ichimaru?”

“I don't know!” repeated Gin. He almost had the door now-

Abruptly he was thrown against the wall away from the door. Kyoraku had a hand around his neck. The dark-haired man leaned in, smelling of pipe-smoke and sake. “There are ways for us to find out. I suggest you tell us now and save yourself some pain. Or perhaps...” A large hand reached down and groped Gin roughly. Gin gasped, more out of shock than of pain or pleasure. Kyoraku bent closer and breathed hotly into Gin's ear, making the young man squirm. “Perhaps you're looking forward to it?”

“Shun, back off,” said Ukitake sternly. Kyoraku licked up Gin's cheek and let go. Gin rubbed away the wet patch with his sleeve, disgusted and suddenly fearful. Ukitake was scowling at Kyoraku. In one smooth action Ukitake had risen to his feet. The white-haired man looked at Gin. “You really don't know about the will?”

Gin shook his head slowly. He wanted them out of here, now. This was his space, this was his space with Aizen. This was an intrusion to his memory. Ukitake sighed heavily. “Ah well. I guess there's no point to asking him then. Staying here won't find it.”

Just as Gin thought the adjutants were leaving, Ukitake removed a length of indigo fabric from his sleeve. Kyoraku raised his eyebrows and grinned maliciously. “You just hate being second, don't you?”

“Don't ask stupid questions,” growled Ukitake playfully. Kyoraku grabbed Gin's arm and twisted his hold, sweeping Gin's feet from under him. Locking the young man's arms behind him, Kyoraku waited until Ukitake had looped the cloth into a gag over Gin's mouth. The slender youth struggled and bucked and screamed into the gag, but the two adjutants were experienced soldiers and soon had him trussed up. Kyoraku rummaged around and found a dagger – the dagger Gin's father had left to him. Ukitake took it from Kyoraku and then directed an angelic smile at Gin.

“Don't you worry, _Kitsune_ ,” he mocked in a soft tone, dark delight tinting his tone, “we'll do our best to enjoy you.”

Kyoraku slid Ukitake's clothes off the white-haired man's shoulders. Pressing a tender kiss to Ukitake's shoulder, the brunet smiled and added, “Again and again.”

 

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

 

Gin's only thought the next morning was of Takeshi and Lady Minako's safety. Struggling to sit up, muffling the inadvertent whimpers of agony, Gin redressed himself and grabbed his sword. If he even saw the two adjutants today, he would kill them or die trying.

Making his way to the lady's quarters, he met Takeshi, who scampered up and hugged Gin. Biting back the stabbing pain this simple demonstration of affection caused him, Gin stroked Takeshi's head. “Where's mummy?” he asked softly.

“In there with Kyo-san and Uki-san,” said Takeshi happily.

Gin paused. They were holding the two hostage. The silver-haired steward bit his lip. No one would believe him, since the two adjutants were held in high regard by the White Army, and the servants would not be able to rescue Lady Minako or Takeshi without endangering either of them.

_But if they had lied about their injuries, perhaps they had lied about the general too._

Well aware that he was in no shape to ride, Gin took a horse anyway. It was only two days' ride away. He had treated himself in the privacy of his rooms earlier, and the numbing salve the physicians used before extracting arrowheads was helping somewhat.

Gin was chary of leaving the family in the two adjutants' hands, but then there wasn't much he could do by himself. If he could find the general, maybe there would be a way.

 

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

 

Leaves and twigs latticed overhead, casting delicate veins of shadow over the ground. Gin walked through the trees, searching. It was cold, the frost arriving earlier this year, but Gin took no notice of the weather.

“Aizen-sama?” he called out. He was tired and hungry, his horse had bolted and he was hopelessly lost, but he had to find Aizen Sousuke. He had to. They can tell him that Aizen was dead all they want, but Gin would have to see an actual dead body to believe in it. “Aizen-sama?”

“Kitsune?”

That voice.Gin turned around. Aizen was there, wrapped in a furred, hooded coat and looking rather ragged, but he was there. “Taishou. I've found you.”

“Gin,” murmured Aizen as the silver-haired man trudged up the slope and then fell in his arms, exhausted beyond measure. “Gin, why did you come?”

“I came to look for you. They told me you were dead, they said... they said you died in the forest, fending off bandits.” Gin breathed in the heady musk of his lover. It was cold and he burrowed closer. “They said you were dead.”

Aizen hugged Gin closer. “They aren't wrong, Gin.” He looked down at the slender man in his embrace. “What's wrong with you?”

“N-nothing.” Gin was about to faint. The trauma of the previous night, coupled with the grief he had been shoring up ever since the two adjutants returned, the exertions he forced on his battered body, the overwhelming relief at having found his lover all added up to demand a complete shutdown of his system.

The general held Gin upright and brushed hair away from Gin's pale face. In the rising moonlight, Gin thought he saw a hunger in Aizen's gaze.

Aizen's golden gaze.

“Taishou?” he murmured. “I think... I think we better go home. Shall we go home now?”

“Of course,” answered Aizen tenderly, lowering his head to kiss Gin under his ear. Gin heard Aizen sniff and then growl. Without warning, Aizen let go of Gin and let the slender youth roll down the slope.

Struggling to his feet, Gin was confused and lost. “Taishou, what's wrong?”

“What's wrong?” snarled Aizen. “I smell them on you! Did you even wait for them to finish announcing my demise before you serviced them?”

Gin's eyes widened and he shook his head slowly, then more rapidly. “No, no, I didn't, they-they came to our room and- oh gods. Oh gods.”

Now that he was a good distance away and adrenaline was pumping through his veins, Gin saw fully what Aizen had become. Golden eyes glaring at him under a prominent brow, and fangs like a wolf's gleamed dully in the moonlight.

Aizen snarled again, stalking forward. Gin stayed rooted to the spot until Aizen grabbed his arms and crushed the young man against his body. Then Aizen paused, as if surprised.

Slowly the general let go. “You're not afraid of me.”

“Oh gods,” repeated Gin, stepping forward and extending a cautious hand to Aizen's face. “What happened?”

“Why are you unafraid?” asked Aizen, as if unable to believe that Gin was not running away in terror. Gin was running gentle fingers over Aizen's transformed visage, his blue-green eyes full of emotion. The vampire grabbed Gin's wrists and tugged the hands away. “Answer me!”

“I don't know,” whispered Gin. “How am I supposed to be afraid of you?”

Something in the general's blazing eyes softened and the features returned to normal. He released Gin's wrists. “Run. Run home.”

Gin frowned slightly, but walked away reluctantly. The general roared. “RUN!”

Gin ran until he collapsed. When he woke, he ran until he reached home.

 

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

 

Gin endured the following three days by locking himself in his room, emerging every day only to ensure that Lady Minako was safe and Takeshi was fine. The two adjutants appeared to have taken over the household, reassigning duties and preparing a funeral for Aizen. Every night one of the two – usually Ukitake – would come to Gin's rooms, but after Gin sliced Ukitake's hand open the two men stayed away from Gin.

Then the news came of a ruthless band of bandits, burning and looting as they went. And they were heading here.

From the rumors gathered from the few survivors that remained, the bandits had ripped their victims throats out. They had masks on, masks that hid their eyes and made them look like monsters. They only attacked by night, and were extraordinarily fast and strong.

The town tried to prepare, and the army stood on alert, posted at various entrances to the large town.

Gin knew who was coming.

By the next sundown the bandits had arrived. Fires erupted from various quarters of the town, and the army was sent out to assist in putting down the bandits. Gin knew they would not be coming back. He had his sword at the ready, Takeshi by his side and the pregnant Lady Minako with him in the most secured room in the fortress. There was no question of leaving: even with the mayhem outside, the two adjutants had their eyes on their puppets. They left Gin guarding them because he was a good swordsman and was not likely to stab them in the back while the lady and Aizen's child was still in danger. Treacherous as they were, they were also good strategists.

Not good enough to withstand monsters, however.

 

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

 

The main gates were smashed in by large humanoid creatures with wild blue hair and heavily muscled bodies. Over the bodies of the guards, a woman and a man led a troop of their own kind into the fortress.

“So nice of you to invite us into your house, Sousuke,” purred the woman.

Aizen smiled. “The boy has yet to reach maturity, and apparently someone has stopped Gin from taking on the full role. Isn't it great when the universe is on your side, Sayuri-chan? No one owns the fortress.”

“Hmm, such intimacy with my name when you're still so young,” scolded Sayuri. “Insolent little upstart.”

“I'm not little,” laughed the general, sweeping the woman up in his arms. The soldiers that had followed him in life now fought by his side as well, together with Sayuri's own court of vampires. The servants and guards held their ground as best as they could, but against demons and monsters they had no chance. Aizen watched the carnage unfold. “You're just much more experienced than I am.”

“I will teach you as we go along, my darling,” crooned the woman. “After all, I am the queen of my kind. Come. Show us your lovely home.”

 

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

 

Takeshi held his hands over his ears to keep out the screaming. He was shaking but, to Gin's immense comfort and pride, the boy was not crying. He had his father's courage. Lady Minako was sobbing silently, collapsed on a pile of cushions behind them. Gin placed a hand on Takeshi's head and the boy blinked large brown eyes up at him.

The two adjutants flew into the room. At the door were half a dozen men and one woman, dressed in red silks. They were all sporting yellow eyes and protruding foreheads, but it was their fangs that grabbed the most attention.

Takeshi took in the appearances and screamed. Gin scooped him up and hugged him close. Ukitake struggled to his feet, while Kyoraku unsheathed his second sword.

“You were supposed to kill him!” yelled Ukitake. “Why the hell did you change him for?”

The woman smiled. “Because he was handsome. Because he was strong. Because he was a damn sight more of a man than you two can ever aspire to be. Because I wanted to.” She hissed and her eyes gleamed. “Don't you dare assume that you can tell me what to do, Ukitake. I am Sayuri, Princess of the Night. I do as I please.”

Kyoraku was breathing heavily. Before the woman stopped talking, he charged. The twin swords swung down and across, decapitating one of the vampires and stabbing deep into another. The beheaded vampire exploded into dust, but the stabbed man just pulled the blade out with a threatening growl. Kyoraku's mouth opened in horror. Sayuri rolled her eyes and grabbed Kyoraku by his neck.

“Not yet, Sayuri-hime,” said a brown-haired man. Gin's breath hitched. Aizen stepped forward and took Kyoraku from the woman and shoved him back into Ukitake. “I'd like to deal with the vermin in my house.”

“Oh, all right,” said Sayuri with a sultry smile. “The rest of you, go clear out the rest of the town. Have fun, hmm?” After the other men left, Aizen and Sayuri examined the people left in the room.

Gin didn't speak, only held Takeshi close to himself. He would keep the boy safe, no matter what. That had been his promise to Aizen and to Takeshi.

Coyly Sayuri tilted her head. Her skin was milk-white, glowing in the weak candlelight in the room. Her features eased back into regular human features, revealing large dark eyes rimmed by long lashes. “Aren't you going to introduce us, Sousuke?”

Aizen smiled humorlessly. Lady Minako gasped; Gin kept Takeshi's face averted. Aizen took a step forward and observed all their faces.

Ukitake was wan but stoic, Kyoraku sweating but stern. Neither men showed much emotion. Lady Minako trembled where she was crouched, a hand over her swollen belly. Gin met the cold, calculating gaze, his jaw set. Takeshi turned his head and then cried out, “Papa?”

“Takeshi.” Aizen's smile grew a little warmer. Gin swallowed against the hope that Aizen would let them all go. The Aizen he knew and loved would never have harmed his people. He would never have terrified his family. He would not have killed in such a cavalier fashion.

This was not the Aizen he knew, but Gin was more than aware that even now, Gin's heart ached with love for him.

“Takeshi,” echoed Sayuri. She strode forward as well, standing beside Aizen. “Your son. And who is this beautiful young man holding him?”

“Ichimaru Gin,” Gin answered coldly.

The woman laughed. “So you are the one! Let me tell you a secret: it was your name he whispered with his dying breath.”

“Whose?” asked the steward, though a dread foreboding lurked in his heart.

“Sousuke's, of course! Such a romantic man, aren't you, Sousuke?” crooned Sayuri. “Such a perfect specimen, betrayed by his own adjutants, delivered to my hands.”

“Be quiet, Sayuri,” said Aizen.

The woman raised a brow. “What did you just say?”

With a sigh Aizen grabbed the nearest door frame, tore it out and stabbed it into the center of the woman's chest. Sayuri blinked in disbelief. “I made you-” She exploded into dust.

Aizen looked at the pile of ashes on the floor. “And now I've killed you. What of it?”

Sensing that this was their chance, Kyoraku and Ukitake each grabbed a sword and attacked. Gin had seen them spar before, and the two adjutants could practically read each other's minds. As repugnant as they were, Gin had to hope that they could beat the changed Aizen. Ukitake's attacks were forcing Aizen back and the general executed a duck and roll, coming back to his feet with Kyoraku's sword in his hand. Kyoraku went on the offensive, relying on Ukitake to defend him.

There was an added ferocity and grace to Aizen's movements. A simple backhand shouldn't have been able to knock Kyoraku off his feet, a casual spin-kick couldn't have knocked Ukitake back. Gin swallowed and handed Takeshi to the lady.

“Keep him safe,” he ordered, before drawing his sword and entering the fray.

He kept out of the two adjutants' way as much as he could, since they were used to fighting alongside each other. Aizen was being forced to a corner, but with a rasped growl he tore the blade out of Ukitake's hand and impaled him to the wall. The man choked back a shout and tried to tear the sword out, but it was been stabbed in to the hilt.

Kyoraku roared an expletive and swung, losing all sense of self-preservation. It was all Gin could do to protect him, but Aizen's punch on his forearm shattered bone and Gins vision flashed white with agony. When the pain faded to a throb, Gin saw that Kyoraku had been stabbed into the floor through his shoulder. Aizen was staring at Gin.

“Get up, Kitsune,” he said gently.

As he pushed himself to his feet Gin's other hand closed around a length of wood that had come free during the fight. He knew what to do.

He breathed in and the stake rushed forward. It was only moments before the love of his life died, for real, and Gin had to take one last look at him.

The stake rammed into flesh.

Aizen was gazing at him calmly, in his human face. He looked at the stake stuck into his shoulder, well clear of his heart. “Your aim is off.”

“I can't do it,” whispered Gin. “Gods, I can't do it.”

“Well,” said Aizen pleasantly after ripping the stake from his shoulder. “For your lack of accuracy, I'm gonna give you a present. Two presents, actually.”

Gin tried to breathe normally as Aizen stepped right behind him and embraced his waist, as he used to on mornings when they woke up together. Aizen kissed the silver-haired steward's ear and then licked the outer rim. Gin shivered.

The general held him tightly, ignoring the intake of breath that signified pain. “The first present is regarding Takeshi. You can choose to save my son, pass him to any survivor out there whom you trust, and I promise the survivor and my son will walk away from this massacre safely, and we will not hunt them down. You will then come back here. Option two is for you to walk out of here and ride north for three days, then come back here. Every single piece of property I own will then belong to you. All you have to do is leave Takeshi here, and ride out north.”

Gin shut his eyes. “Give me Takeshi. I'll be back as soon as I'm certain he and his guardian are safe.”

“You are on your honor, Kitsune.” Aizen smiled. He called out and one of the men who had been there came in. “Mitsui. Follow Ichimaru out and escort him back. Let the people he selects go away safely.”

“Yes taishou.”

 

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

 

Gin walked carefully along the debris-strewn streets and pretended he could not hear the screams and cries erupting from various spots in the cities. Every now and then a teal-furred monster would sprint past. Takeshi was quietly sobbing, having registered that he was awake and there were dead people around.

Gin's right arm rested in a sling, his left hand holding Takeshi's tiny one. Mitsui watched them both, close enough so that the rampaging monsters did not take these two as prey. When he came to the Matsumoto teahouse he was glad to see that it was still standing. He walked in, ignoring the irritated commands of Mitsui to return to his side. Apparently the changed men could not enter a house uninvited.

A rod came hurtling towards him and Takeshi shrieked. Halfway through the blow the rod changed dirction and Gin dodged as best as he could. It was Matsumoto Reina, the third daughter of the family, along with her husband Hirako Ozuru.

“Gin!” she gasped. “We thought you were... oh my god, you're injured!”

“That's not important,” said Gin urgently. “Get your things. I can get you out, only one family, no more.”

“What are you saying?” asked Hirako. He was a noodle seller, if Gin remembered correctly. “Who is this boy?”

“He's... he's Aizen Takeshi. But he is to forget the name tonight; it will not help him or you. Take the boy, take your valuables and follow me.”

That said, Gin led the three out. Mitsui was at the door, scowling, but the man said nothing. Gin nodded and Mitsui directed them to the river which was abandoned. There was a boat and Gin ushered the three into it hurriedly.

“Gin-jii?” Takeshi tugged on Gin's robe. Gin swallowed the lump in his chest and hunkered down to embrace the boy again. “Aren' you coming wif me? Are you throwing me away? Don' you want me?”

“Takeshi-chan, Gin-jii loves you. Papa loves you and so does your mummy. But we have to do something else right now, and it will take some time, so follow Reina and be a good boy, okay? Give Gin-jii a kiss now.”

Takeshi obeyed. Gin hugged him again with his good arm, pushing down the tears. This would be the last time he saw Takeshi and he knew it. “I love you, darling boy. Be safe.”

Mitsui snarled, “If they don't leave now, they'll die right away.”

Reina clutched Gin's arm. “Come with us. The town is not going to survive.”

“I can't,” answered Gin. “I made a promise to keep his family safe. Lady Minako is still inside. Takeshi... let him forget the name. He is your son now.”

Mitsui kicked the boat away from the dock. Suddenly aware of the nature of the parting, Takeshi shrieked at being separated from Gin, but the current was carrying the boat downriver and away from the burning town. The boy's plaintive cries carried over the water and Gin felt his heart break.

 

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

 

When the silver-haired steward returned to the fortress, Aizen was sipping sake.

“Ah, you're back,” said Aizen. “And without little Takeshi either, I see.”

“I promised to keep your family safe,” said Gin dully. “Lady Minako is still here.”

Aizen chuckled darkly. “Oh, her? She's not my family.”

“She is your wife.”

“Not when the child in her womb belongs to someone else,” said Aizen casually. He flicked a glance at the two men tied up in the back. “Right, Kyoraku?”

Gin was shocked. “Y-you mean...”

“You really think no one heard you that night? She dismissed all the servants who could have helped you, and then led them to your room.” Aizen laughed again at the horrified expression on Gin's face. “Such terrible people, hmm? You came back, hoping to save her, and yet she was the one who let those two men rape you. Repeatedly, as I heard.”

Gin froze. He had not wanted Aizen to find out, he had not expected the lady to be so vicious. The general downed his sake and then stood up. He stalked over to the motionless steward.

“Strip,” Aizen ordered quietly.

“No,” said Gin, knowing he was about to die. He would not lose what little dignity he had.

Aizen narrowed his eyes, then pinned Gin to the wall by his throat. With his free hand he tore off Gin's belt and ripped away the thick winter clothes. Underneath the layers Aizen saw bruises that were yet healing, cuts and scars that had just closed, and he growled. Evidence that Gin had been forced against his will stared him in the face, and Aizen did not like what he saw.

“I have a second gift for you, Gin,” he murmured, leaning in close so that his lips brushed Gin's mouth. “Again, a choice. Walk out of here, ride north for three days, return to power and money, everything you need. You can even get Takeshi back here if you want.”

“What is my other option?” asked Gin. Getting Takeshi back safe and sound, raising him to be a proper warrior would be ideal.

“Your other choice is to die in their places.” Aizen glanced at the trio who were tied up. “Your life to power, riches and glory, or your death for them to live on.”

Gin bit his upper lip.

“Remember what they did to you, Gin,” Aizen went on inexorably, his soft tone concerned and tender. “The woman arranged for these men to have their way with you. The men forced themselves on you. They didn't let you die only because Takeshi loved you and she thought you could take care of him better than she could. If they could kill you, they would have.”

Gin's eyes flicked over all the three prisoners. Lady Minako was pleading silently with a teary face, her pregnant form causing her to have difficulty in kneeling. Ukitake had closed his eyes, apparently ready to accept whatever fate had befallen him. Kyoraku was watching the lady, the fear for his own child evident.

Aizen pressed his mouth to Gin's ear, allowing him to take in the bound prisoners. “What do you say, Kitsune? Your life, or theirs?”

Gin closed his eyes and swallowed. He inhaled and breathed out. “Let them live. I will die.”

“Really,” said Aizen with a thin smile. Gin nodded, biting his lower lip. The general licked away the tear that rolled down Gin's cheek. “Come with me now.”

Aizen led Gin to their room, which was still pristine and untouched. Aizen entered and removed the rest of Gin's clothes. The young man trembled at every touch from Aizen's hands, but didn't fight back. Aizen studied Gin critically.

“They really manhandled you,” he said quietly. “They don't deserve to live.”

“No,” agreed Gin, equally softly, “but there are those who don't deserve to die who have died.”

The general smiled crookedly and began removing his own clothes. Gin stepped forward to assist, out of habit, and was startled when Aizen tilted his chin up to kiss him deeply.

“I'll let them live,” said Aizen. “But are you ready to die?”

Gin stared at the man he loved. “No. Who is?”

The brown-eyed man chuckled low in his throat. Lowering Gin to the futon, Aizen ran cold hands over Gin's shaking body, seeking out tender spots and sensitive zones. The younger man bit his lips and closed his eyes, willing himself not to respond to the familiar caresses and failing. Aizen chuckled again as he slid into Gin after carefully preparing him and oiling himself.

“Are you willing to die, Kitsune?” he murmured and licked Gin's ear.

Gin inhaled sharply as Aizen thrust harder. His head rolled back. “Yes.”

“Good.” Aizen growled.

Gin felt the canines sink in, felt his world flash white, then red, then begin to darken. He was gasping for breath now, the sensation of Aizen's teeth in his skin and of Aizen buried in him spiking into pleasure/pain/pleasure; he was finding it difficult to think, to breathe... was that... the pounding of... his... heart?

The scent of sweet rot filled his nose, a thick taste filled his mouth. Gin tried to turn away from the foul copper-sweetness but he couldn't. It flooded him and he was reaching for it, fingers grasping around broad shoulders, body bowing upwards to get more of the taste. He couldn't see, couldn't think, couldn't react beyond swallowing and drinking and fading...

 

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

 

Gin woke up with a start. In front of his eyes was an expanse of skin, familiar yet strange. He ignored the thought, his rapacious hunger gnawing at every single nerve. There was a satisfied laugh behind him and Gin swerved around, disoriented by the sharp clarity of every detail. There were heartbeats, pounding, thundering in his ears, but they were not his.

It wasn't his true love's either.

“Aizen-sama,” breathed Gin. “Taishou.”

“Kitsune,” said Aizen and embraced the young man. “Finally you're awake.”

Gin tried to bury his face in Aizen's neck. “Hungry. Hungry.”

“Oh, no no, none of that.” Aizen pulled Gin away with another laugh. “Your first blood must be of the living. There.”

Three people were bound and gagged, one of them female and pregnant. Gin didn't bother to recognize them before he fell upon the weakest – the woman – and fed. It wasn't enough; she had been weakened by something, she had little blood. The second prisoner shouted, his voice gurgling in his throat as teeth pierced straight into his jugular and rich life drained out of him. By the time Gin drank the third one dry, he was feeling much better.

When he drew away he saw who he had fed off. Minako, her fingers bloody and ripped, the elegant nails torn out. Kyoraku whose eye sockets stared blindly at his killer, his hands twisted and broken out of shape. Ukitake, his handsome face shorn of its beauty, his nose having been cut off and similarly blinded like Kyoraku. Gin looked down at the corpses and then swiveled about.

Aizen smiled warmly and took Gin's hands. “My love. How do you like my gift to you?”

Gin laughed happily as he turned into Aizen's embrace, his back to Aizen's chest. “This is wonderful! I feel... I feel rejuvenated. I feel different. I feel like... like the power of the world is arcing through my veins!”

“That is good.” The general kissed Gin on his bare shoulder, then swung the younger man around into his arms. “My Kitsune is back with me. Nothing else matters.”

“One thing I have to know,” said Gin, nuzzling under Aizen's chin. “If I had chosen to walk away, what would you have done?”

Aizen smiled. “Snapped your neck, then tortured them as consolation, much as I did while you were still sleeping. Did they taste good?”

“You tortured them without waiting for me,” pouted Gin. The general caught Gin up in his arms and kissed him apologetically, pressing his lips to smooth cheeks and soft mouth. Gin shifted closer and murmured, “You're gonna have to make it up to me, you know.”

“With pleasure,” replied Aizen.

Beyond the fortress's walls, the smoke from what remained of the town curled upwards.

 

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

 


End file.
